A Dirty Mind is Most Pedantic 18
by Corabelle
Summary: Corabelle, the fantastic author, places characters from Pokemon in sundry compromising positions for amusement. These smutty vignettes are being uploaded so you can be amused too. WARNING: may contain offensive material. Be aware of the perversion inside.


_**The following piece of fanfiction is based off of a single line of "dialogue" from Pokemon: Pearl Version. That's how messed up my mind is.**_

"_If Professor Rowan finds out I lost the Pokedex . . . Ewww, I don't want to think about it." _

Dawn slides off of her Staravia with guilt hanging in her step. As the door to Professor Rowan's lab creaks, her thoughts consist mostly of paranoia. She sidles up to Rowan while brandishing a half-smile as her only weapon. Rowan startles her with a casual greeting. _Then again,_ she thinks, _he'd have no way of knowing. Does this mean I'm safe?_

Rowan opens his mouth as if to speak, but instead fumbles for a buzzing noise in his pocket. He answers the phone formally. Soon his expression fades to disdain. Though he's clearly enraged, a twitch of happiness curves upon his face when Dawn utters a frightened squeal.

"It's come to my attention you almost lost my pokedex."

"But—but— it worked out," Dawn stammers. "Lucas was there. He got it back for me!"

The Professor sighs, letting his anger be replaced with a different feeling altogether. Dawn, feeling relief, turns her back to him. She wheels back at the tap of her shoulder to find Rowan brimming with a different feeling indeed, a lust so powerful that none could possibly sate it, save one special lab assistant. No, it's not Amy from R Professor Rowan hungers only for the sweet touch of Dawn.

He wrenches her down to her knees. Tears well up in her eyes, yet never fall.

"You must endure this punishment. That pokedex is worth more than everything you carry on you put together." Rowan fails to comprehend his own words, but disregards that fact in the name of sex.

Dawn wordlessly submits to Rowan's touch as it ghosts across her face, down her arms, around her waist, up her skirt. Soon the Professor has stripped her to bare skin. His state of arousal ambiguously grows as Dawn shivers against the ice-cold tiles. She notes that her inhibitions towards such lewd behavior are waning in the face of her own want.

Once naked as well, Rowan presses his body against hers, his weight cementing her to the floor. The sensations of body heat clash with her chills from earlier. The musk-like scent of his is almost intoxicating. With each fervent breath, he relishes the world around him, and the girl beneath him.

Dawn cries out when he pinches her clitoris and toys with the edge of her entrance. The jolt of pleasure his fingers send down her spine when he inserts one, though stronger, is stifled by a bitten lip. With another digit Rowan begins the ritual of oscillating motions he has grown so accustomed to. His doll tries in vain to move, to hump the intrusive fingers, but in response he presses down with greater determination. She cannot budge unless he permits it.

The Professor takes pride in himself as she forces her eyes and her lips shut. She's nearing orgasm, and he knows it. Rowan goes in for the coup de grace: he licks and sucks one of her nipples while fiddling with the other; it's a weakness of hers that's well-known to him.

When she finally hits climax, her core pulses in bliss; Rowan's lips crash against hers, and she pours a torrent of lusty moans into his mouth, noises she had kept pent up for far too long. This cathartic release sends Dawn into a haze of euphoria and daunted breathing. He lifts away from her body with a sly twist for a mouth.

"Lick up that mess you made on the floor."

Dawn flips herself over onto all fours, eyeing the puddle the she had made. It reeks of blood, sweat, and sex, but she finds herself incapable of resisting the Professor's will. Watching her display of obedience, he strokes his cock with desires still unfulfilled.

He swoops in and clasps her wrists, using her arms like handles. A shrill noise escapes from Dawn as Professor Rowan prods her anus. It turns to an agonized shriek of pleasure; he forces in the tip with little warning. He starts inching her back in a smooth rhythm. Her sharp cries cool into scratchy moans. He takes in the moment, almost balls-deep in the asshole of this cute little slut. But he dismisses said moment to make room for new ones, drawing back until only the head is inside again.

Without ever breaking his momentum, Rowan plunges back into the recesses of his assistant's butt. Dawn's insides welcome his cock's return with a tight squeeze. Stricken with pleasure, he begins thrusting at greater and greater speed. Soon he's reaming Dawn's asshole with no regard to the blood collecting around its entrance.

His orgasm is quick. Cum spatters all throughout her ass. There they remain, if only for a few moments, trying to hold on to the pleasurable sensations which now feel so distant.

"My, my, my!" Joanne, Dawn's mother, exclaims when she walks through the door to find such a horrid scene. "I never!"

"Wait, I can explain!" Rowan cries.

"There's no excuse whatsoever for this! You made hot sex everywhere and didn't think to invite me to join? That's despicable behav—"

"Lucas, you dirty boy!" Maylene teases. His reverie is suddenly obliterated by the introduction of other people into his surroundings. "I never imagined you'd just sit here with a big, thick erection, just waiting for me to pounce on it and become your loli sex slave!"

The dream within a dream collapses, though, when Lucas remembers that no one would ever say or do anything like that. _Back to reality,_ he muses. _Good, old reality, where I'll never get laid._


End file.
